Draw It Out
by SchrodingersMonster
Summary: Dean and Sam get infected by a demon, and Castiel and Gabriel come to take care of them. But Gabriel has his own plans (dun dun duuuuuuuuuuun) to get what he wants most; Sam. And for his brother to get Dean. Rating might change to M. silly, fluffy, and eventually smutty! C: Destiel, Sabriel, TFL
1. Chapter 1

**Draw It Out**

**Chapter One**

**Not sure where this is going, but enjoy the destiel/sabriel feels! C:**

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It was Dean's fault, really.

He'd been the one who'd neglected to do the research properly like Sam had asked him, and had lied so he didn't look like an idiot and said it was a ghost they were dealing with.

So the boys had gone in armed with salt rounds and iron, Sam with that do-gooder determined look on his face and Dean with a qeasy feeling in his stomach. And the "ghost" had rushed at them, reaching out with scabby hands that went right through their chests, seized something inside them, and clenched painfully. Sam gasped for breath, and Dean's head throbbed like someone was trying to pound a rusty nail into it.

And then, it was gone, and they were alone. Sam turned to Dean, panting, one eyebrow raised.

"Well, that definitely wasn't a ghost."

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"Yeah." Dean paused, listening. "Okay Bobby, thanks anyway. Let us know if you hear anything." Pause. "Okay, bye." He sat down heavily at the small table in the motel room, putting a hand to his head and groaning. From the bed, Sam opened one eye to look at him.

"I'm gonna take a wild guess and say he didn't-" The younger Winchester broke off, coughing. "... Didn't know anything?"

"Nope, he said he'd keep his ear to the ground though. Man, I've never felt this bad before." Dean groaned again and got up, throwing himself down on the twin bed a foot away from Sam's.

"No kidding. It must be some sort of demon sickness, or something... I should do some research." Sam tried to get up, but fell back onto the bed again, wheezing in a dry, raspy sort of way that scared Dean more than he let on. His older brother instincts kicked in and he did the only thing he could think of.

Ask for help.

"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray for Castiel to get his feathery butt down here and help us!" A flutter of wings, a flicker of lights, and the angel stood at the foot of Dean's bed.

"Yes, Dean? What do you-?" He broke off suddenly, tilting his head to the side.

"Cas?" Sam asked cautiously. He got no answer.

The angel of the lord approached Dean silently, staring into his eyes intensely. And then he did something that under normal circumstances, Sam probably would have found hilarious.

Castiel leaned forward and _sniffed_ Dean.

And then he was gone.

Dean turned to Sam, looking thoroughly confused. "Well. That was weird."

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but instead started coughing violently again. He sat up and leant back on the headboard, trying to breathe. Dean immediately grabbed his brother's shoulder in concern.

"You okay Sammy?"

"What does it look like, Dean?" Sam snapped back, annoyed. If it wasn't for Dean, this wouldn't have happened after all. Dean raised his hands in an "I surrender" gesture, and layed back down again, fingers immediately going to his head to rub his temples.

"Well, well, well, looks like the chuckleheads have gotten themselves into a _very_ sticky situation." Sam groaned in annoyance as a very familiar, annoying voice filled the room.

"Damnit, Cas!"

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"So we have, what, hunter flu?" Sam asked, incredulous. Gabriel smirked and nodded.

"Yep." He popped the p. "Well, any human can get it, but these demons will only pass it if they feel threatened or attacked, so." The archangel shrugged, looking secretly pleased. Dean turned to Cas instead.

"So what're we supposed to do about it? Will we die?" He demanded, looking worried. His whole body ached, and he felt the sickness in his bones.

"No, Dean. You will not die." Castiel sighed heavily, his gravelly tone of voice dropping an octave in his seriousness. "Unfortunately, there is no cure for it. Nor can Gabriel or I cure you of it. You just have to... ride it out. In this way, it is much like the common cold."

Dean groaned for what seemed like the fiftieth time that day and flopped back, swearing loudly as he banged his already pounding head against the headboard. Gabriel sniggered and the older Winchester shot him a death glare.

"Look, you feathery piece of crap-"

"Oh shut it. What're you gonna do, cough on me?"

"Bite me!"

"With pleasure."

"Guys, stop!" Sam squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a headache rising that had nothing to do with the sickness. "I can't deal with your arguing while I feel like this. Please."

Gabriel hummed thoughtfully. "Alright, I think I know of a solution that will appease everybody." He snapped his fingers.

Sam blinked, and found himself in a much larger hotel room, with a bigger bed, full kitchen area, and a view. Castiel and Dean were nowhere insight. Gabriel, however, sat cross-legged at the end of his bed, grinning in that sardonic, self-satisfied way of his.

"What did you do?" Sam demanded, a little worried.

The archangel rolled his eyes. "Relax Samsquatch, they're next door. I just thought it would be easier to keep you two seperate, so you don't rip each other's heads off. Looks like Castiel and I are gonna have to take care of you until this passes. And since Dean wants to rip my throat out..." He shrugged and grinned. "You're stuck with me."

Sam grunted in annoyance. "Oh joy of joys, I'm helpless and relying on a sadistic archangel. Yay." Suddenly, Gabriel's voice was right at his ear, making him shiver slightly.

"It's best not to be sarcastic to the sadistic archangel you're dependent on. He might just... take advantage of you."

Sam turned to snap a retort, but Gabriel was gone.

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Dean ran a hand over his short hair, before leaning back to survey the situation. Nice room, comfy bed, HD tv. He grinned. So much better than the crappy motel room he'd been trapped in before.

"Thanks Gabriel!" He shouted happily, all previous anger gone, while Cas stood awkwardly and watched him.

"There's no need to shout, you know. I can transmit what you're saying through the 'angel radio.'" Castiel looked thoroughly uncomfortable, as if he didn't know what to do with himself.

"You can't get this sickness, right?" Dean asked curiously. Castiel shook his head.

"No, Dean, angels are immune to all illness." Grinning again, Dean patted the spot on the bed next to him.

"Well then, you don't need to stand over there! Watch tv with me." Hesitantly, Cas sat on the edge of the bed. Dean flicked on the huge tv, and Cas secretly thought the older Winchester might split a lip from how big his grin was.

"Dr. Sexy MD is on! This is like, my favorite show, man." Dean animatedly began explaining the plotline of the soap to Castiel, who listened gravely, as if it were of dire importance.

The Trickster grinned like the Cheshire cat as he watched them, all michief and secret plans.

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**That's all for now folks! Hope you enjoyed this, let me know what you wanna see, if you liked it, etc C:**

**reviews are my inspiration! cheers!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hope y'all enjoy chapter two!**

**This is dedicated to the two people who were kind enough to leave reviews C: **

**IMPORTANT NOTE AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER**

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It had gotten worse. _Way_ worse.

Sam could barely speak, and when he did, his voice was raspy and scratchy. He had trouble breathing when he was in certain positions too. And to top it all off, he was starting to get congested, and his nose was running.

Dean, on the other hand, could speak fine. Unfortunately, all he did was moan in pain. The older Winchester had a constant throbbing in his head, as well as that deep, can't-get-comfortable ache in his bones. And now he was starting to shiver, complaining it was freezing no matter how much Castiel amped up the temperature. All together, made sleep damn near impossible, and that made Dean cranky.

Overall, the mood had gone from "We can deal" to "Kill me now".

So Sam would nap in bed until he rolled on his front or side and couldn't breathe, and when he woke up he just read books. Gabriel brought him all kinds of books, hoping to distract him from that irritating congested feeling that made it impossible for him to relax.

Dean, meanwhile, was miserable. He left the TV on but never really watched it, just layed in bed, wrapped in blankets, and tried to sleep. Gone was the five year old on crack attitude of just a few days before. Not even pie, Cas learned, could bring him out of his funk.

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"Dean?" Castiel's voice was tentative following the flutter of wings. Dean grunted and rolled over, opening his eyes wearily. The angel stood there holding a medium sized white box, tied with a light blue ribbon on top. Dean sat up and leant carefully against the headboard, being especially wary of his head. Even a slight jolt could set him off. On the second day, he'd gotten up to find something to eat, had a killer head rush, and passed out cold on the floor. He'd awoken to Castiel's hand on his forhead, Enochian being mumbled as the angel drew invisible runes on Dean, and Cas' blue eyes staring at him, which was oddly comforting.

"What's up Cas?" The angel looked almost... embarrassed? He rubbed the back of his neck uneasily.

"I heard that humans eat food they find comforting when they are sick, so here." He dropped the box into Dean's lap and watched him from a distance, albeit a little anxiously. The angel seemed on edge, even tense. Dean wondered if it was something to do with him or some important angel business. He decided not to ask, because he was supposed to be resting, not freaking out over the next apocalypse.

He opened the box tentatively, not sure what to expect, but was pleasantly surprised. An absolutely huge slice of apple pie waited for him, looking delicious and perfect. He looked up at Cas, surprised.

"You got me pie?" He seemed incredulous. Dean wanted to eat the pie so badly, but he knew that trying to hold down more than water and saltine crackers would just result in him yacking it back up. Castiel took his surprise the wrong way and frowned slightly and made a move to take it back.

"I'm sorry Dean, I didn't know it would upset you. Here, I'll just-" Dean yanked the pie back before Cas could take it, a predatory look coming into his eye over the box of pie.

"No, it's fine, I'm just... not hungry." The angel watched him for a long moment, a look Dean couldn't decipher passing through his eyes, before nodding slowly.

"Okay. I'll save it for you."

Dean rolled back over, suddenly grouchy as hell, and punched his pillow.

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_Here I am, _

_Rock you like a hurricane!_

Sam moaned with what little voice he had left. "What the hell?" Rolling over weakly, he saw something he doubted could ever be burned out of his mind.

Gabriel stood there in heart patterned boxers, knee high socks, and nothing else, rocking an air guitar to the song. He danced around the room, even doing a power slide. He was also shouting the words along with The Scorpions. The archangel saw that Sam was awake, jumped on the bed, and continued to sing loudly along. Sam couldn't help but laugh. The thought alone of the messenger of God with an air guitar was enough to make anyone laugh.

"Gabriel, what are you doing?" He croaked out. Gabriel snapped his fingers, and suddenly he was wearing clothes and there was no music again.

"C'mon Samsquatch, I know you dream about waking up to me half naked on your bed." He joked, grinning in challenge as he sat down cross legged on the bed across from Sam. It had become his habit, to sit there whenever he came by.

"Yeah totally Gabriel, especially the heart boxers." Sam rolled his eyes before breaking off to cough. He held a hand over his mouth and when he pulled back, there was blood. The younger Winchester looked up to see two intense golden eyes staring at him, or more specifically staring at the blood on his hand. Then Gabriel noticed Sam noticing him staring and offered him a quick grin that didn't reach his eyes.

"Here." He said, holding out something. A pen and a notepad. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Are you serious?" He rasped. Gabriel leant forward and put a finger to his lips, and nodded towards the notebook. Sam rolled his eyes again but complied.

_**Is this really necessary?**_ He showed the words to the archangel.

"Yes."

_**Why?**_

"Because it will hurt less. Duh."

_**I don't want to do this. It takes too long.**_

"Too bad. It's the doctor's orders!"

_**Whatever you say, Dr. Sexy. **_

Gabriel laughed. "Damn straight. So what do you want to do today? Read? I found a first edition _Original Guide To Pagans_, right out of the 1840's. Dried blood on the pages and everything." He waggled his eyebrows but Sam shook his head. "No? Wanna watch tv?" Shake. "Hungry?" Shake. "Well, what then?"

Sam hesitated, not sure how to ask. Eventually he wrote something down and held it out to the archangel, whose eyebrows rose in surprise.

_**I want you to teach me about angels. **_

Gabriel was silent for a long moment, considering what Sam was asking of him. Finally he looked up, a calculating and thoughtful look in his eyes.

"Why?"

Sam felt a blush rising to his cheeks but didn't know why.

_**I'm curious. And I figure the more I know, the better. Knowledge is power, right? Plus learning from you will be an interesting experience to say the least. And I just... want to. I can't explain it. **_

Sam bit his lip, then wrote one more word.

_**Please?**_

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**So yeah! What did you think? What will Gabriel say? What is he planning? Will Dean ever eat pie again?!**

**Important note; there may or may not be wing!kink coming up, just a warning. **

**Please review, it inspires me! Hope you enjoyed C:**


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